


Light from Above

by stvrmxra



Series: The World and his Star [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Bokuaka - Freeform, Crush at First Sight, Gay, Gay Panic, Gay!!, M/M, i love bokuaka so much and i don't know what to do about it, was only gonna be one chapter and then i kept going lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24890296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stvrmxra/pseuds/stvrmxra
Summary: Akaashi meets an alluring presence at the bookstore he works at, and somehow, Bokuto makes his life a whole lot brighter.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: The World and his Star [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854166
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	1. Blinding Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A single stream of sunlight bathes him in brilliance. It winds through each strand of his hair, the poorly dyed white ends glowing and the black roots appearing almost blue. It radiates from his tan skin, causing Akaashi to suddenly notice the fine lines of toned muscle in the arms under his white t-shirt. 
> 
> The light turns his eyes to liquid gold, and the sparkle and luster is even more scintillating than before. Akaashi can’t look away, and he sees something more than just gratitude within the swirls of the sun. 
> 
> He is ethereal. 
> 
> \----
> 
> At the bookstore where Akaashi works, every day is the same; until a new, intriguing face shows up and makes his day interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I haven't written on here in over a year now and I'm back with a Bokuaka fic. This is gonna be three parts, and I know this one is really short but they get longer lol. Hope you love Bokuaka as much as I do ;)

“Thanks for coming in. Have a great day.” 

The customer carefully grabs her bag of books from the hands of Akaashi Keiji, a smile on her face as she replies her thanks and walks out. Chimes ring out as the door shuts firmly behind her, and newly risen dust particles shift in the streams of sunlight shining through the windows at the front of the store. 

A couple of people mill around the small bookstore where Akaashi works, reading novel summaries and skimming the first few pages of works both old and new. The store smells of old books; not bad, like one would think, but serene, like standing in an open field in the middle of spring. 

The day is a very bright one; almost too bright for the eyes of Akaashi, who prefers the calm of darkness over the annoying and stark persistence of light. The quiet music overhead and his stool behind the shaded counter makes it tolerable, though, so he doesn’t let the sun bother him.

Akaashi grabs the book he had put down momentarily and starts where he left off when the bell rings, alerting him that someone’s coming in. “Hi, welcome in,” he says from the back of the store, eyes not straying from the words on the page. 

He’s aware of footsteps approaching his spot in the back of the store, but he assumes they’re going to a nearby shelf, so he doesn’t move. It’s after a few seconds of silence that Akaashi looks up and sees a man in front of him. 

A very, very attractive man. 

The man is smiling, and his smile is so bright that Akaashi has to force himself not to squint and look away. Just with one look, Akaashi can tell that he’s the type of guy to be obsessed with himself, and Akaashi sees this, but yet, he can’t help but understand why. Just by the first look, Akaashi can see the confidence dripping off of him, and that puts an uneasy feeling in his stomach. 

“How can I help you?” he asks in his most professional voice, yet he can still hear the awe laced in it and curses himself silently. 

“Do you have any books on owls?” the man asks, and whatever Akaashi was expecting to hear, this wasn’t it. 

“We might,” Akaashi says, thinking to avoid looking at the relucent sun standing right in front of him. Putting his book down, he steps off the stool and walks around the counter to a nearby shelf. Finding the O’s, then finding owls, Akaashi turns to find himself alone in the aisle. Confused, he walks back to the counter to find the man staring into space. 

Akaashi coughs to get his attention, and the man slowly turns back toward him. His smile is lucent, but Akaashi didn't miss the look he wore seconds before and had immediately covered up; it was a lost look of deep contemplation, like he was startled and was silently trying to figure out what to do. Like he was thrown off my something, but by what, Akaashi doesn’t know. 

With the man a few steps behind him, Akaashi approaches the small section of owl books once again and points to it. “Here are the books on...owls,” he says, and watches as he grabs the book titled “Owls—Birds of the Night.” Akaashi starts to walk away when the man turns to him. 

“Thank you.” he says with another smile, and it nearly throws Akaashi to the floor. 

A single stream of sunlight bathes him in brilliance. It winds through each strand of his hair, the poorly dyed white ends glowing and the black roots appearing almost blue. It radiates from his tan skin, causing Akaashi to suddenly notice the fine lines of toned muscle in the arms under his white t-shirt. 

The light turns his eyes to liquid gold, and the sparkle and luster is even more scintillating than before. Akaashi can’t look away, and he sees something more than just gratitude within the swirls of the sun. 

He is ethereal. 

“You’re...uhm...you’re welcome,” Akaashi says, flustered after staring for a stupid amount of time. 

Before he can think any further, he walks out of the aisle and back to his stool, and it’s only as he sits that he feels just how fast his heart is beating. It’s useless trying to focus on the book in his hands, because his mind only wanders down the aisle where a luminary stands, reading a book about owls.

_“Dammit, Keiji. Get it together.”_

Taking in a deep breath, he lays his head on his crossed arms on the cool, dark wood of the counter. His heart finally starts to tame itself, and he gets his mind to stop racing for a couple of minutes. 

Akaashi hears the sound of a paperback book flopping next to his head and he raises his gaze, only for his heart to kickstart again. 

“Can I get this?” the man asks with a grin, though Akaashi can’t guess what the grin is for. 

“Sure,” he replies, grabbing the book and scanning it. As he rings up the book, he can feel the man’s eyes on him, and goosebumps erupt on Akaashi’s skin. He feels his gaze on his bare arms, his shoulders and chest under his navy t-shirt, his hands, his face, and even each strand of his black hair. His cheeks flame, catching fire from the gaze of the blinding sun. 

The man hands Akaashi the money, and for the split-second their fingers brush, tendrils of fire shoot through his veins. He thought he was the only one who felt it, but when he peeks up as the cash register pops open, he sees a blush on the cheeks of the man who doesn’t at all seem like he would fluster easily. 

To Akaashi’s demise, their hands don’t touch when he hands him the bag, but the grateful smile he receives makes up for it. 

“Thank you,” he says, winking at Akaashi. 

And Akaashi, completely thrown off by this action, barely utters out the words “have a great...day” before the man chuckles and walks out of the store, leaving behind a clinking bell and an astonished cashier. 

Just like a cloud passing over the sun on a summer day, the store seems darker the further away the man walks. 

And for once, Akaashi would rather be standing in the glory of the light than sitting in the loneliness of the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have the whole thing done, I'm just waiting to post it lol. I'll post part two within the next couple of days, so keep checking back!


	2. Shining Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re close. So close, maybe even too close; Akaashi can see every strand of gold and bronze that float around his irises, every long eyelash that flutters as he blinks, every loose silver strand of hair that caresses his face like a soft whisper. 
> 
> Akaashi watches Bokuto’s eyes and realizes they’re slowly traveling around his face, studying him so intently that Akaashi can’t ignore the tension that’s been growing between them all night. 
> 
> Then the doubt creeps in, and after what was either a year or a few mere seconds, Akaashi lets go of Bokuto’s fingers and stands. 
> 
> \----
> 
> Bokuto finds his way back to the bookstore after hours, and Akaashi won't let this new opportunity escape him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two!! as I said in the notes of my last chapter, this ones longer than part one. enjoy!

The rest of the day went on as normal. Akaashi sold books to the people that came in, he had a pork bun for a snack, and he sat in the shadows of the counter until closing time. 

Though the rest of the day went on as normal, Akaashi couldn’t say the same about himself. One guy, with his own irradiance, had burned himself into Akaashi’s brain, and the truth was he’d probably never even see him again. He had to put the day behind him and continue stepping forward, but every time he tried, he pictured the incandescent man and took two steps back instead. 

He was just so hard to forget. 

“Alright, I’m gonna head out,” his boss says as the time hits nine o’clock, and Akaashi nods. On his way out the door, he turns to the boy still at the counter and stops. 

“Are you staying here for a little bit?” he asks.

“Yes, Mr. Yamiji. If that’s alright.”

Takeyuki Yamiji sighs. “Yes, it’s alright, son. Just make sure you lock the doors when I leave, and when you leave as well.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Have a good night, Keiji. Don’t get into any trouble.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Mr. Yamiji then walks out of the store, and he watches as Akaashi locks the door and saunters tiredly back to the counter. 

The older man sighs, shaking his head and starting toward the direction of the bus station. Mr. Yamiji knows that Akaashi likes to stay at the bookstore instead of going home, and what kind of person would he be if he forced the kid to go home, where he didn’t want to be?

Akaashi grabs his backpack from under the counter, and he pulls from it last week's homework that he has yet to complete. Chemistry doesn’t take him long to finish, maybe half an hour, but by the time he pulls out his English homework, his eyes are fighting to stay open. 

That’s when someone runs up to the front door and starts banging on it, scaring the living hell out of Akaashi and nearly knocking him off the stool. 

Heart beating almost fast enough to kill him, Akaashi takes slow, careful steps toward the door. Against every warning sign his brain gives him, he brings his face close to the window and looks out.

But he didn’t even have to get close, because he knew exactly who was banging on the door with just one glance.

Dark eyebrows furrowing into a frown, Akaashi unlocks the door and pulls it open, allowing warm light to pour in from a new source. 

“What the hell?” Akaashi asks the guy that’s been on his mind all day, who’s standing right in front of him with a slight sheen of sweat highlighting the features of his face. 

“I…I...hold on just a...second,” he says in between breaths, putting his hands on his knees as he exhales deeply. Akaashi crosses his arms, not exactly knowing what to do but still wanting to make his irritation obvious.

A couple of seconds pass as the man catches his breath, and when he finally stands to his full height, Akaashi isn’t quite ready for how close they are. He tries not to show his discomfort by holding a straight face, and he raises his eyebrow, awaiting the explanation as to why he just got the life scared out of him. 

“Are you closed?” he asks, and Akaashi blinks.

“We were, yes. Why?”

He curses under his breath. “Well about half an hour ago I remembered this essay for English I never wrote that’s due tomorrow, and as soon as I started it, the internet in my entire neighborhood went out. I have absolutely no idea what I’m writing about, so I was pretty screwed, and then I remembered this bookstore, so I ran here as fast as I could.” 

Akaashi was dumbfounded, and his look must have shown that because the guy hits his forehead with his hand and calls himself stupid. 

Akaashi turns to the counter with his homework still lying on top, some papers on the floor from his big scare, and back to the man in front of him. Someway, somehow, the stars brought this man back to him after being on his mind all day, so why was he seriously even considering letting this chance slip through his grasp?

“I’m just sitting here alone doing my homework. You’re welcome to come in and write your essay, if you’d like,” Akaashi says, voice confident but words shy. 

He wasn’t gonna let this God-given opportunity walk away from him.

The man smiles that damned smile, but it’s different somehow. Earlier it was coruscating and blinding like the sun; but now, it glows like the calm lucence of a star in the night sky. It gives Akaashi goosebumps all the same. 

“If that’s okay with you.” 

Akaashi doesn’t know how to answer without sounding persistent, so he just pushes the door open wider and gives the man room to walk into the store. 

Locking the door behind him, Akaashi makes his way to the counter and takes his seat on the stool. Not knowing what to do, the man follows and leans against the counter in front of him, and they sit for a second in silence as Akaashi gathers the courage to speak. 

“First things first,” he starts, looking up. “What’s your name?” 

The man smirks, raising a silver eyebrow. 

“Bokuto Koutarou,” he says. “What’s yours?”

“Akaashi Keiji.” 

“Nice to formally meet you, Akaashi,” Bokuto says, his smile luminous. 

“Same to you, Bokuto-san.” 

Bokuto’s eyes flash; the look is gone in an instant, but Akaashi sees that Bokuto likes the sound of his name rolling off of his lips. 

“Now,” Akaashi starts, ignoring the shiver racing up his spine. “Why didn’t you just think of getting a book when you were here earlier today?” 

Bokuto frowns, and the word “cute” flashes in Akaashi’s brain, but he ignores that too. 

“You see, my friend Kuroo and I had been arguing about owls and cats, and I claimed that an owl could beat a cat in a fight. We argued and eventually let it go, but I knew I was right, so I came looking for proof. I found it in that one book, so I took it straight to him and he got really mad at me, so we had another argument that didn’t end up with a clear winner, even with my solid proof.” 

Again, his words were not at all what Akaashi was expecting, and they didn’t even answer his question, but he lets it go anyway and asks a new one. 

“so..uh...what’s your essay about anyway?”

This seems to remind Bokuto of the reason he’s at the bookstore with Akaashi in the first place, and he has to think for a second before replying. 

“It’s an essay on this beginners english book we read, I think. I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember the book?” Akaashi asks incredulously. _How does he not know what book they’ve been reading in class?_

“Uhm, no, but I’d remember it if I saw it,” Bokuto laughs. “You’ve already guessed but I also didn’t read a single page.”

“What were you doing in class, then?” 

“Sleeping, maybe?”

Akaashi stares at Bokuto, unbelieving of the words he’s hearing. 

“So…you’re here to write an essay in one night on a book you haven’t even read?” Akaashi asks, and after a moment of mulling over the words, Bokuto nods. 

“Now you got it, Kaashi.”

Akaashi stills, the nickname given so sudden and spoken so full of admiration throwing him off. Throat suddenly dry, he coughs to break the loud silence and stands. 

“Well if you’re gonna start this essay, you’re gonna need to at least know what happens in the book,” he says, walking to a shelf at the front of the store and returning with a couple of popular books on the English language. He hands the books to Bokuto, who simply stares at them in his hands like he’s never seen a book before.

He sorts through them slowly, studying the covers as Akaashi looks on, until he finds one with a peachy-red and light green cover. He holds it out and flips through a few pages, then looks up to Akaashi and says “it’s this one.”

He pushes the other books to the side of the counter, placing the one he selected down in front of him. “How am I gonna read this in one night?” Bokuto asks, and Akaashi rolls his eyes despite his better judgement. 

“I’ve read that book before,” he explains. “It’s short and I know what it’s about, so I’ll picture it for you as best as I can.”

Bokuto looks up from the novel in his hands to meet Akaashi’s eyes, and there’s gratitude within the depths of deep gold. 

“Are you sure you can help me? Don’t you have to be home?” 

Akaashi grabs the counter so hard his knuckles turn white, and he simply replies with “I have no problem with helping you, Bokuto-san.” Bokuto looks at him with a face full of skepticism, and Akaashi looks away before that look can turn into one of pity. “Let’s get started, I guess,” he says, changing the mood from somber to focused.

In less than two hours, Akaashi describes the entire book in the perfect amount of detail for Bokuto to understand, somehow gets Bokuto to remember the exact prompt for the assignment, keeps him concentrated on writing, and helps him complete the essay. Staying concentrated wasn’t as hard as Akaashi figured it would be, and it also helped that Bokuto was a surprisingly good listener. 

Though he is happy to be done for the night, Akaashi doesn’t want the night to be done. He wants nothing more than to simply talk to Bokuto and get to know him better, and Akaashi would be content with sitting all night and hearing every single thought on his mind. 

Bokuto stands from the extra stool Akaashi had brought for him and stretches his back. White t-shirt riding up his torso, Akaashi catches a glimpse of a smooth, hard stomach above the waistband of his joggers and his breath sticks to his throat. Bokuto’s skin is a bit pale and almost sparkles under the dim lights of the shop, and Akaashi feels his cheeks heat and turns away to conceal it. 

With the picture of abs printed to the front of his mind, Akaashi squats down and starts picking up his forgotten homework papers that flew when he thought Bokuto was a burglar. He’s too unfocused to comprehend anything, unconscious thoughts retracing the image of his body, until he reaches for a paper and feels warm fingers instead.

Head snapping up, he’s immediately met with the star-like eyes of Bokuto. 

They’re close. So close, maybe even too close; Akaashi can see every strand of gold and bronze that float around his irises, every long eyelash that flutters as he blinks, every loose silver strand of hair that caresses his face like a soft whisper. 

Akaashi watches Bokuto’s eyes and realizes they’re slowly traveling around _his face_ , studying him so intently that Akaashi can’t ignore the tension that’s been growing between them all night. 

Then the doubt creeps in, and after what was either a year or a few mere seconds, Akaashi lets go of Bokuto’s fingers and stands. 

Bokuto follows and rises to his feet. He holds out the paper for Akaashi to take, attempting to meet his eyes, but Akaashi only takes the paper and puts the rest away in his backpack. 

Akaashi is too afraid of the rejection in his eyes, the turndown that would be clear on his face if he looked at him, so he didn’t. He didn’t want the confirmation that _this_ was all in his head, that his mind has been plagued with the fire of suns and stars all day only for him to be burned in the end. 

“Are you leaving?” Bokuto asks as Akaashi slips his backpack straps onto his shoulders. Against his better judgement, Akaashi looks up at the celestial being in front of him and is surprised to see no sign of rejection on his face, only dismay. 

Bokuto’s fulgid aura seems to dim, and Akaashi abruptly realizes that he doesn’t want to be scared anymore. He doesn’t want to hold himself back from what he wants, even if what he wants is potentially impossible to get. 

And what he really doesn’t want is to see Bokuto disappointed or upset. 

The night sky wouldn’t be as beautiful if the brightest star became dark. 

“Well,” Akaashi starts, unzipping his backpack to put Bokuto’s essay inside, “you don’t want to stay in here all night, do you?” 

Bokuto closes his eyes and smiles, and the sight is so dazzling that it brings a real smile to Akaashi’s face as well. He steps away to grab the keys from a hook on the wall, and Bokuto follows him as he turns off the lights and locks the door behind them. 

Once he drops the keys into his backpack, Akaashi turns to Bokuto, who smiles at him with a look he’s never seen before. It was a look of pure joy, like there was nowhere else—with no _one_ else—he would rather be than right here with Akaashi. 

Maybe what he wants isn’t really so impossible to have. 

“Let’s go,” Akaashi says, starting to walk away from the building. He doesn’t feel Bokuto beside him, though, so he turns around to see the star in the street instead of the sky gazing at him in wonder. 

_He has it twisted,_ Akaashi thinks, facing the shining star a couple steps in front of him. I _should be looking at_ him _like that. I don’t deserve to get that look._

“Where are we going, Akaashi?” Bokuto asks, tilting his head to the side. 

_How am I supposed to get through this without setting myself on fire along the way?_

“Wherever you want, Bokuto-san.” 

Bokuto laughs, and it quickly becomes Akaashi’s new favorite sound. He closes the distance between them with a few steps, and once they’re side-by-side they turn to each other, their gazes drawn together like the opposite poles of magnets. 

And opposites, they are. 

“Are you ready for this, Kaashi?” Bokuto asks, his half-concealed excitement making Akaashi feel light and airy despite it being the middle of the night. 

“Bring it on, Bokuto.”

With the bookstore behind them, they start walking toward the city full of lights and colors. Though Tokyo was indeed aglow, the light Bokuto radiated with nothing but his smile was a thousand times brighter. 

Akaashi was finally standing in the glory of great light, and he was no longer bound to the loneliness of the dark. 

And there is no way he’s going back.


	3. Beaming Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They walk a few steps before Bokuto pipes up once more. 
> 
> “I still don’t know much about you, Akaashi,” he says, turning to the younger boy and tilting his head. “What’s your favorite color?” 
> 
> “Yellow,” Akaashi replies, almost immediately. “But not bright yellow. A darker tone, like one you’d see in a sunset.” He faces Bokuto and studies his eyes, marveling at the sunlight trapped within. “Like gold.” 
> 
> Bokuto smiles. “Mine’s dark blue, like the ocean,” he says, looking forward again. “It’s mysterious and full of secrets.”
> 
> Goosebumps spread across Akaashi’s bare arms. 
> 
> “What’s something else you like, besides volleyball and dark blue?” Akaashi asks, and with that, they fall into a steady conversation. 
> 
> \----
> 
> Bokuto and Akaashi walk around Tokyo at night, and they grow closer than they thought they would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last part! this ones my favorite, if you can't already tell by how long it is lol. I'll also be posting this on wattpad (@balorxobxessed) if y'all want to check it out for some reason. thanks for reading this far and hopefully you guys enjoy!  
> \----  
> !!!!!!!also, I said it at the end too but I'm considering writing a fourth part in Bokuto's pov of the night, so if you like this, comment if you want to see it!!!!!!

The usually crowded city of Tokyo is a different place when night falls. The streets are less populated with people, the lights are bright and colorful, and it’s a lot quieter without the business of people commuting through their lives. 

For a few minutes, the boys walk in a surprisingly comfortable silence, both taking in the pleasant night and coming up with something to say that won’t break the serene atmosphere. 

“It’s so beautiful at night.”

Akaashi looks to his left where Bokuto walks beside him, his eyes tracing the skyline in admiration. Feeling Akaashi’s gaze on him, Bokuto turns with a coy smile on his face and laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. 

“Sorry, It’s just I’m never in the city at night. I’ve never thought it could look so...peaceful.”

Akaashi doesn’t know why he’s apologizing; the city is indeed beautiful. Even during the hours of the day where it’s most rushed, Tokyo has its own environment that, even to the eye of the outsider, is unique. 

“I’m out here a lot,” Akaashi says quietly. “this is where I go to clear my head.”

Akaashi’s heart stutters as he hears his own words come out of his mouth, the realization that he said something so personal to a guy he barely knows making his stomach drop. Bokuto smiles warmly in reply, though, which slows down his heartbeat considerably. 

“I don’t know much about you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says after another few moments. “Where do you go to school?” 

Bokuto grins as he says “I’m a third year at Fukurodani Academy.” 

Akaashi’s eyes widen the slightest fraction. _A third year._ Besides his older age, the name of Fukurodani rings a bell in Akaashi’s mind, but he ignores it. 

“I had earned a recommendation for Fukurodani, but I didn’t take it,” Akaashi says, and Bokuto looks surprised. 

“Why not?”

Akaashi sighs. “I guess I just wasn’t that interested in going.” 

“Ah, well, there's nothing wrong with that,” Bokuto says, peeling his eyes away from the boy next to him. “When I got my recommendation, I was really excited because Fukurodani is a powerhouse school and I've always wanted to go there.”

Another bell rings in Akaashi’s brain, and the light from a memory he can’t quite grasp flickers from the back of his mind. 

“Powerhouse school? So you play a sport, then?” 

Bokuto grins widely, looking at Akaashi again. “I’m the captain of the volleyball team,” he says, his golden eyes glowing. 

_Volleyball. Fukurodani. Bokuto Koutarou._ Akaashi loses himself in his thoughts to try and find the memory he’s thinking about, and suddenly, when he looks at Bokuto walking next to him, a screen is lifted from his eyes and he pictures it clearly. 

_He’s a star._

When Akaashi had been deciding on high schools to go to, his friend took him to a Fukurodani volleyball match. He didn’t really want to go, but once he was there, one player on the court had stuck out and grabbed Akaashi’s attention. 

He was luminous; his passion and love of the game was obvious, radiating from his smile and the way he played. He was extremely talented, too, his skills far above the other players on both teams.

 _“I think that’s Bokuto Koutarou,”_ his friend had said as the match went on. _“He’s only a first year.”_

Now, Akaashi remembers the idle fleeting thought that crossed his mind as he watched Bokuto—the same man currently walking next to him—play. 

_“He’s a star.”_

Watching Bokuto was the reason Akaashi kept playing volleyball; he had wanted to play with the star, to share the same passion and love for volleyball that he possessed. 

Now Akaashi can’t remember why he let go of that dream. 

“I used to play volleyball,” Akaashi murmurs so quietly he isn’t even sure Bokuto heard him. 

“Really?” he asks, turning to Akaashi with curiosity on his sharp features. 

“I was a setter.” 

“That’s awesome!”

“I guess so,” Akaashi shrugs, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “What position are you, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto brightens, his light shining a path in front of them like the moon. “I’m a wing spiker. And the ace.” 

Akaashi’s raises his eyebrows, impressed. Though it doesn’t shock him in the slightest. 

“Not to brag,” Bokuto says, skipping a step. “but I’m also one of the top five spikers in Japan.” 

“That’s cool,” Akaashi says, impassive. “So I’m guessing you weren’t good enough to make the top three?”

Bokuto stops, and Akaashi stops a few steps in front of him and turns. The look on Bokuto’s face is priceless, and Akaashi can’t hold in the sudden laughter. 

“Don’t ask me like you're interested just to make me seem insignificant!” he exclaims, punching Akaashi in the shoulder once he reaches him. His smile doesn’t falter and he doesn’t make a sound, even though the punch was much stronger than he anticipated. 

“I didn’t ask, Bokuto-san.”

“You obviously wanted to know!” 

They keep walking down the sidewalk, smiles on their faces. It’s really late, though neither of them know the time or care enough to look. 

“You said you used to play volleyball,” Bokuto says as they turn a corner. “Did you quit?” Akaashi sighs, then nods.

“I quit before high school.”

“Why?” Bokuto asks, then his eyes widen. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s okay if it’s too personal.”

Akaashi smiles. “It’s fine,” he says, meeting Bokuto’s look. “I quit because I didn’t feel like volleyball was worth it. To me, it was just a club; it was only a way to pass time.”

A pause. “I understand that you didn’t feel like it was for you, and you can’t help that,” Bokuto says. “But personally, I never understand when people reduce the sport of volleyball to just a ‘club’. Volleyball is so much more than that.”

Akaashi is startled by the strong enthusiasm in Bokuto’s voice. Fukurodani’s ace walks along, hands in his pockets as he kicks a rock, and Akaashi stays quiet because he knows that Bokuto has another thought on his mind. 

“To some people, volleyball is an escape. They can put everything—their entire being—into practice and building their skills to forget about the world. To me, volleyball is a way to push myself to be better, to be good at something. It’s because I pushed myself too much that volleyball stopped being fun, and I was close to letting it all go, too. But just recently, I saw the fun in playing again, and I remembered that even if this is just a club, even if this isn’t my future, I can still give it my all and have fun while doing it.”

Akaashi is completely taken aback, his lips parted as he looks to Bokuto, whose face is flushed from the passion in his words. Bokuto bites his lip, and a haze of calm, heavenly light swirls around him, making him appear ethereal. 

“There’s a lot of pressure on me, but I never acknowledge it’s there,” he continues. “There are times, though, where I mess up and get in my own head. That’s when I have to remember that volleyball is supposed to be fun, and I’m the only one that can make it that way by letting go of my mistakes and pushing forward.”

Bokuto tilts his head to the night sky illuminated by stars and electricity. The moon is full and stark white, it’s presence calm compared to the chaotic foreground of stars, airplanes, and tall buildings. 

But the only calm presence that has Akaashi’s attention is right next to him.

Bokuto snaps out of his thoughts and turns to Akaashi with a timid smile. “Sorry,” he apologizes quietly. “It’s been a while since I’ve talked about my feelings to someone who would actually listen.”

After seeing Bokuto express his mind so fervidly, a certain feeling of admiration grows within Akaashi and he has no idea how he’s supposed to keep it contained. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” he breathes. “Everyone needs someone that will listen.” 

Akaashi doesn’t hear the underlying message in his own words until he sees a slight rose color spread across Bokuto’s cheeks. He feels the same heat climb up his neck, but he simply pretends it isn’t there and continues forward. 

With a break in the conversation, Akaashi and Bokuto finally become aware of their surroundings. They’re standing at the top of a long street lined with shops, most of them closed. 

“I know where we are!” Bokuto says, suddenly giddy. “There’s this place I love that I want you to see.”

That’s when he grabs Akaashi’s left hand and pulls him along the sidewalk. 

Suddenly Akaashi has no idea where he is or what he’s doing; his focus is on one thing and one thing only: Bokuto’s hand on his. It’s bigger and warmer than his own, and his grip is strong. His touch sends shivers down Akaashi’s spine, and he can’t tell if it’s because of fear and doubt, or shared feelings and new hope.

They finally reach this small frozen yogurt shop nestled between two larger stores, and they’re standing in front of the door before realizing how late it is. 

“Dammit! I forgot it’s like, the middle of the night!” Bokuto exclaims, throwing the hand that isn’t still holding Akaashi’s into the air. 

“The lights are still on, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says. “They couldn’t have closed long ago.” 

Bokuto looks at Akaashi with a sad puppy-looking expression, his hair almost seeming to droop with his features. Akaashi rolls his eyes, but he keeps his body angled toward Bokuto’s as he pulls out his phone to check the time. 

“Damn. My phones dead,” he says, sliding it back in his pocket. Bokuto follows his lead and pulls out his, but it’s the same situation. 

“You guys are kinda creepy, just standing here,” a new voice says, and the two boys jump apart, their hands sliding from each other’s grasps. 

They look up at the now open door to the frozen yogurt shop, where a tall guy in a pink apron stands with his arms crossed. He has blonde hair and glasses, and Akaashi fixes his eyes on a small nametag that reads “Tsukishima”. 

“Tsukki!” Bokuto says loudly, slapping the man on the shoulder and hanging off of him. “You didn’t close long ago, did you?” 

Tsukishima sighs and rolls his eyes, pushing Bokuto off of his shoulder. “We closed about fifteen minutes ago. What are you even doing out here so late, Bokuto-san?”

“I forgot to write an essay,” Bokuto says with a grin, and the other guy blinks in response. He turns to Akaashi with a finger facing Bokuto, and Akaashi just shrugs. 

“Forget it,” he mutters as a couple of people pass behind them. “If I get you your frozen yogurt, will you leave?” 

“Satisfied and happy,” Bokuto says, mischief in his starlit eyes. 

Tsukishima sighs, turning to open the doorway for them to enter. “I want a big tip this time, Bokuto.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” 

Bokuto, Akaashi, and Tsukishima enter the small shop, and Akaashi looks around to admire the cute and simple decorations on their way to the yogurt. Akaashi simply gets chocolate with Oreo pieces and chocolate chips, and Bokuto gets nearly the opposite: vanilla with a mountain of gummy worms, sugary cereal, marshmallows, and sprinkles. 

When it gets time to pay, Akaashi pulls out his wallet, ready to buy both of their desserts, when Bokuto holds out a hand to stop him. 

“Don’t worry, Kaashi. This ones on me,” he says with a small wink that makes his eyes twinkle in the bright lighting. 

Surface level Akaashi raises his eyebrows and puts his wallet back in his pocket, but inside, his brain is a mess of new thoughts tangled together. Many words repeat, the most common being _“Bokuto. Feelings. Hand. Kaashi. Wink. What?”_

He pays and leaves a large tip in the tip jar, which seems to satisfy Tsukishima, as he even smiles and wishes them a good night. 

“You didn’t have to pay for me, Bokuto,” Akaashi says, taking his first bite of frozen yogurt as they fall back into step on the sidewalk. 

Bokuto laughs, biting the head off a gummy worm. “Who would I be if I made you stay out this late and then made you pay for a midnight treat? I’m not that heartless.” 

“You’re not making me stay out here, you know,” Akaashi says, voice quiet and slightly timid. He peeks up at Bokuto, stirring around his yogurt with a spoon. “I’m choosing to be out here. It’s nice, with you.”

Bokuto smiles a genuine smile, looking into Akaashi’s eyes. He looks almost as if he’s searching for something within the depths of dark turquoise, and Akaashi wonders if they’re looking for the same thing. 

They walk along, mostly quiet as they eat their “midnight treats”. They pass only a few people, and Akaashi wonders if those people even notice the other lives going on around them. It’s hard to believe that no one stops and stares at Bokuto as he walks by, his auroral aura alluring to no one but Akaashi. 

“Hey, Kaashi?” Bokuto asks, swallowing a bite of his impending heart-attack. 

“Yes, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi answers, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of his new nickname. 

“Who do _you_ think would win in a fight? A cat or an owl?”

Whatever Akaashi was expecting him to say, that wasn’t it. He looks to the boy on his left with a look that asks “what the hell is wrong with you?” and Bokuto meets his look with raised eyebrows and a head nod as his mouth is full of gummy worms. 

“I’ve never thought about...that before,” he says with a side look to Bokuto. “But I guess...I think the cat would win.”

“What?!” Bokuto looks to Akaashi in disbelief, eyebrows furrowed. He swallows his bite and shakes his head. 

“Sorry Kaash, but no. An owl would _destroy_ a cat in a fight. You know they can turn their heads in a full circle?” 

“They...can’t, but yeah. So what?”

“So what?” Bokuto looks incredulous. “That’s a huge advantage. They can also fly and have sharp talons for feet!”

“Okay? A cat has four usable limbs, can run quickly, and has sharp teeth to bite with. They can also see in the dark.”

“So can owls!” 

_Dammit. He got him there._

“An owl could just pick up the cat with his talons and fly over a tree and drop it. It’s that easy.”

“Why wouldn’t the owl just eat the cat instead? Why does it have to drop it? Plus the cat would just land on its feet.”

“Whatever! Point is the owl can win in less than a minute just with its feet.”

Akaashi rolls his eyes but doesn’t counter, chewing a chunk of Oreo. “You really did learn a lot from that owl book you bought to fight your friend, huh,” he says. 

“Yeah. I totally won the argument with it too.” Bokuto pauses, lifting his head from his little cup to the night sky. “Was that really today when I got the book?” he asks.

“Yesterday, technically. But yeah.” Akaashi can’t believe how much he’s grown to like Bokuto in less than twenty-four hours, but he wouldn’t trade the time they’ve spent together for anything. 

They walk a few steps before Bokuto pipes up once more. 

“I still don’t know much about you, Akaashi,” he says, turning to the younger boy and tilting his head. “What’s your favorite color?” 

“Yellow,” Akaashi replies, almost immediately. “But not bright yellow. A darker tone, like one you’d see in a sunset.” He faces Bokuto and studies his eyes, marveling at the sunlight trapped within. “Like gold.” 

Bokuto smiles. “Mine’s dark blue, like the ocean,” he says, looking forward again. “It’s mysterious and full of secrets.”

Goosebumps spread across Akaashi’s bare arms. 

“What’s something else you like, besides volleyball and dark blue?” Akaashi asks, and with that, they fall into a steady conversation. 

They tell each other things about themselves; their favorite foods, their favorite songs, their favorite animals (Bokuto’s was clearly an owl), their favorite places to be, their hobbies, and they also share funny stories about themselves and their friends. They had thrown away their yogurt cups and continued on until they reached a large cement staircase, where Bokuto now stops. 

“You wanna see something cool?” Bokuto asks, a playful grin on his mouth. 

“Sure,” Akaashi says, shifting his weight to one leg. 

Bokuto turns to face the descending stairs and licks his lips, lifting his arms above his head. He then, to Akaashi’s surprise, leans forward into a handstand and begins to walk down the stairs on his hands. With his legs in the air, his unsecured white t-shirt slides down his stomach and stops on his chest, and Akaashi’s eyebrows raise. 

Earlier, Akaashi had only gotten a glimpse of Bokuto’s stomach, but now, the entire expanse of smooth, solid muscle is out in the open. And with Bokuto’s focus on his hands so he doesn’t collapse, Akaashi has the freedom to roam his eyes across every inch of skin without fear.

God, he wants to touch him so badly; he wants to run his hands down the hard lines of Bokuto’s stomach, to touch his biceps as they clench and grasp his broad shoulders tightly with his fingers. Heat crawls up his neck and across his cheeks as he watches Bokuto in astonishment, his mind consumed by overwhelming thoughts of _him._

Rather quickly, Bokuto makes it to the bottom and stands back to his feet, promptly turning in Akaashi’s direction. 

“Aggaaashiii!” He yells, waving to get Akaashi’s attention as if he doesn’t already have it.  
As soon as he’s sure he’s looking, Bokuto squats like he’s about to jump and spike a volleyball, but when he jumps, he turns backwards into a backflip instead. 

Once he lands and corrects himself, he’s met with applause from Akaashi as he simply walks down the steps normally. “Was that cool, Kaashi?” he asks once he’s in earshot. 

“That was really cool, Bokuto-san,” he replies, and he genuinely means it. Bokuto beams, the sun once again radiating outward through his skin. Akaashi reaches ground level and stands next to Bokuto, and for the first time, he notices that Bokuto is slightly taller than himself. 

“When did you learn gymnastics?” Akaashi asks, tilting his chin up to silently acknowledge their height difference. 

“I started when I was like seven—“ he breathes in heavy and puts his hands on his hips “—and I took classes for about six years, then I just kept practicing on the side.” 

“You’re a natural at it,” Akaashi smiles, and his smile grows the teeniest fraction at the joy on Bokuto’s face from being praised. 

They take a little longer to continue walking this time, partly to give Bokuto time to catch his breath, but mostly because the two can’t stop glancing at each other bashfully. Once they do continue, they head straight toward the sound of rushing water not too far away. 

In a couple of minutes the pair has their eyes on the wide bank of the Sumida River, the water dark and calm. They lean against the railing lining the sides, appreciating the inky water and the reflection of the moon dancing on the short waves. They stare out for a few short minutes, then decide to walk onto the Komagata Bridge that extends across the width of the river.

They’re the only two on the bridge, and Akaashi is glad for it. Walking along quietly, the blue metal arch’s loom over them, causing the moonlight cast on the bridge to be split into sections. 

Slowly they walk along, and Akaashi notices that Bokuto’s hands are at his sides. Feeling a bit daring, he extends out his fingers the slightest bit as if to grab his hand, but he doesn’t push forward. Bokuto moves his hand slightly to the right, though, brushing his pinkie against Akaashi’s, and they both pull their hands back shyly. 

Akaashi begins to fiddle with his fingers in front of him, a thing he does often, but this time it’s less of a habit and more due to nerves. As much as he doesn’t want to bring up the topic because he knows where it’ll lead, he feels the need to ask. 

“Hey, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks, stopping and turning the pair to face the light wind bouncing off the river. 

Bokuto looks up. “Yes, Kaashi?” he asks, his features serious. 

“Don’t you…” he forces himself to ask, “Don’t you have someone waiting for you at home? Will someone be worried you’re out in the city in the middle of the night?”

Bokuto’s lips turn up, and he closes his eyes and lets the breeze rustle his feathery hair that has mostly fallen out of its style. The pure serenity of the sight, with the white light of the moon falling onto him from behind, Akaashi feels a pang in his heart; a twist in his stomach that makes him feel restless. 

Bokuto’s eyes open again, and the fond smile stays on his lips. “I told my mom before I left that I needed to finish the essay, and it would take a long time to do,” he says, his content smile growing into a grin. “She doesn’t worry much, and she trusts that I can take care of myself.” 

Akaashi leans against the railing, eyes falling to the water below to hide the somber look he knows is on his face. There’s another pang in his heart, and he’s too afraid to admit to himself that it’s jealousy rather than admiration. 

Bokuto’s smile falters as he turns to Akaashi, who seems to be folding into himself. There’s an emotionless mask over his looks that he hasn’t had all night, and it worries Bokuto.

“Keiji?” Bokuto asks, and Akaashi flinches at the use of his given name. His hands are tight on the metal railing, his body tensing as he knows the question Bokuto is about to ask. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, his hand resting inches away from Akaashi’s on the railing. “Is it...do you not…” Usually Bokuto has no problem asking questions or conveying his thoughts into words, but with the pained face and stiff posture of Akaashi, he’s unsure of what to say. 

“Do you not have someone waiting for _you?”_

Akaashi exhales, the question now free in the air between them. He sits there, unmoving, knowing full well that he was scared of the question being asked in the first place because he wouldn't be able to lie to Bokuto. 

After a few seconds, Akaashi sighs, then pulls his lips into a small smile despite how much it stings. “It’s no big deal,” he says, his voice too strained. “my parents just don’t really mind how long I stay out.” 

“You don’t have to lie to me, Ji,” Bokuto says gently. “I can tell this isn’t just ‘no big deal’ to you.”

Akaashi’s eyes burn; his whole body burns, wanting to finally let his feelings out into the world after being stuck inside for so long. His hands are so tight on the railing that he feels his fingers pop when he unclenches them and leans back. 

“So, yeah, my parents don’t care how late I’m out,” Akaashi says, tone suddenly harsh. “They don’t care about where I am, who I’m with, or what I’m doing. They’re always either out, drunk, or asleep, and they don’t have a care in the world about their son or his life.” 

Akaashi’s breathing is heavy and his eyes feel like they’re on fire, his heart ablaze as the things he’s kept to himself all his life are being released with no chance of being stopped. He feels Bokuto’s eyes on his face, but he can’t bring himself to meet the pity that will emanate from his golden eyes. 

“They haven’t shown interest in anything I’ve ever done. I invited them to my volleyball games, and they never showed up, not even giving me an excuse as to why. I come home with good grades, they brush me off to get something more appeasing. It’s been years since either of them have hugged me, kissed me, or even told me they loved me!” 

His breathing comes out ragged, and he doesn’t fully grasp the fact that he’s crying until he feels a tear slide down his cheek. 

“I’ve never been able to...been able to say this to anyone,” Akaashi sniffs, another tear sliding down the other cheek. “I just feel so selfish for wishing I had someone to at least check in on me and show they care.” 

Bokuto, gaze tender and amorous, turns to Akaashi, and it takes a couple of seconds for Akaashi to look up at him. He can see the way Akaashi’s lower lip trembles and his hands shake, holding in so much pent-up emotion that he doesn’t know what to do with it. 

So, to his own surprise, Bokuto reaches out his arms and pulls Akaashi’s body into his. Akaashi stiffens at first, but after a few seconds, he sags against Bokuto’s body and into the hug. Arms settling around his waist, Akaashi lets out a sob that causes the dam to break and tears to start falling. 

“They don’t care about me,” he whispers, his chin atop Bokuto’s shoulder. “No one cares about me.” 

Bokuto squeezes Akaashi’s back, pulling him tighter against his broad chest. Their heads lean against one another as Akaashi finally lets his emotions out, his need to feel loved bringing tears to Bokuto’s own eyes. He sobs for a few minutes, whispering his somber beliefs as Bokuto consoles him sweetly. 

“I’m sorry for this, Bokuto-san,” Akaash says after calming down the slightest bit, still grasping the back of Bokuto’s t-shirt in his fists. 

“You never, ever have to apologize to me,” Bokuto replies in his ear, voice low and truthful, bringing a shiver to his spine. 

“I don’t know what came over me. This hasn’t happened before.” Akaashi says, gulping. “We barely know each other and I’m already losing my grip in front of you.” His hand shifts. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize to me, Akaashi. I don’t care if we barely know each other. You need to let this out.”

“I’m sorry to be a burden.” 

“You’re not a burden,” Bokuto says, voice strong and quietly passionate. “I…” a pause. “I...care about you. I want you to feel better.”

Akaashi remains silent, his mind running over the words that just came from Bokuto’s mouth. He pulls back from the hug until they’re facing each other, eyes wide and unbelieving as they meet the pair of luminous ones, large like the moon and glittering with fervor. 

“I-“ Akaashi starts, but he’s cut off by the fierce look in Bokuto’s eyes. Then, he’s physically cut off by the feel of Bokuto’s lips on his own. 

His eyes widen, and he watches Bokuto’s eyelids in shock as his body stiffens. He wants to kiss him back; he wants to touch him more than anything, but he’s frozen and can’t bring himself to move. 

Sensing the stiffness of Akaashi’s posture, Bokuto pulls away quickly, arms sliding out of Akaashi’s grasp and eyes flying open in panic. His lips move to speak, to justify his actions, but the surprise in the other boy’s eyes blocks his airways and steals his voice. 

In less than a second, Akaashi is stepping back into the warm embrace of the luminary before him, lips pushing softly into his. Bokuto doesn’t react for a second, his turn to be shocked, and then he responds by closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around Akaashi’s waist underneath the backpack he forgot he was wearing, pulling him close. Akaashi’s hands don’t know where to go, extremely uncertain, before they find his cheeks and caress them softly. 

The kiss lasts a couple of seconds before Akaashi pulls away, terrified of the look he’ll see on Bokuto’s face. What he sees when he opens his eyes isn’t rejection, though, but it’s dark, golden eyes staring back at him from inches away, full of open adoration. 

Silence fills the air between them, and Akaashi’s gaze shifts between Bokuto’s eyes. His face is pink and his cheeks are still wet from the outburst he had just a few seconds ago, though it feels more like years have passed since that conversation. 

Bokuto parts his lips, dragging Akaashi’s attention to the lips he had _really_ just touched with his own. The star’s hand rises from Akaashi’s abdomen and brushes against his cheek, wiping away the tear tracks left from the feeling of worthlessness he’s felt his whole life. 

“I care about you, Akaashi,” Bokuto says, sliding his hand into Akaashi’s wind-swept black curls. He pulls their heads together, foreheads touching and eyes so close they can each see every streak of glowing jade and amber. “I’m gonna need you to remember that.” 

Instead of replying—in the state he’s in, words aren’t going to work—Akaashi drops his eyes back to Bokuto’s soft, pink lips and pulls him in to connect them with his own once again.

This kiss is different; this time it’s completely certain and genuine, void of any doubt or fear. Their eyes flutter closed and their lips begin to move, mouths fitting together like perfect opposites; like yin and yang. Land and sky. _Dark and light._

Akaashi’s hands rest on his cheeks, elbows between their chests, and he moves them to loop around Bokuto’s neck. Bokuto takes no time in pulling Akaashi closer, his strong arms bending around the smaller boy’s back to fill the unwanted space with each other.

Akaashi is on fire; his heart, mind, and body ablaze, the heat from the sun and all the stars projected onto him. He loves it, the feeling of being ignited, and he wonders if this is how Bokuto always feels; like he’s high on the sensation of feeling weightless surrounded by pure light. 

He forgets the night, the bridge, and the entire city of Tokyo, his mind focused on the boy in his arms and the touch that sears through his skin. 

Bokuto boldly brushes Akaashi’s lips with his tongue, a reticent question, and Akaashi responds by parting his lips and kissing him back firmly. They continue, bodies so full of passion and warmth that they have to force themselves to pull away so they can breathe. 

They rest their foreheads together, breaths intermingling in the cold space between their mouths. With his hands around Bokuto’s neck, fingers playing with the soft strands of hair on his nape, Akaashi keeps his eyes closed and takes a second to breathe, his heart about to burst from his chest. 

Bokuto’s lips crack into a grin after a few seconds, and a quiet laugh escapes. Akaashi opens his eyes and looks up, and he knows that he will never get used to the sight of Bokuto’s celestial beauty so up close. 

“I’m really glad you let me into the store,” Bokuto says, voice silky. 

Akaashi grins faintly and rolls his eyes. “You should be glad we actually got that essay done.”

Bokuto smiles and holds in what Akaashi knows was going to be a loud laugh. “You wanna know something?” he asks, raising his eyebrow. 

Akaashi sighs, closing his eyes. “Do I even?”

“That essay isn’t due for another two weeks,” Bokuto says, grinning from ear to ear. “I just really wanted to see you again and needed a good excuse.”

“Why didn’t you just come back the next day like a normal person would?” Akaashi asks, disbelief in his delicate, melodic voice.

“Because I’m smarter than a normal person?” Bokuto says, phrasing his statement as more of a question, and it, despite his hardest efforts, brings a smile to Akaashi’s face. 

“You’re lucky I don’t hit you right now for keeping me up so late.”

“I’m only lucky that I met you.”

Akaashi blushes, eyes dropping shyly. Bokuto puts a hand on the back of his head and angles it down, bringing a kiss to his forehead and spreading his light into Akaashi’s life. 

“I’m the lucky one,” Akaashi says in reply. 

The beaming moon smiles, ruffling Akaashi’s hair in a loveable, obnoxious way as the two pull apart and slowly turn back the way they came. They walk through the city once more, but this time, there’s no ambiguity in their actions, only confidence. 

They walk along, fingers entwined between them, until they have to go their separate ways. Bokuto doesn’t forget to give Akaashi his phone number, writing it on his arm with a broken pen they found on the street. 

Akaashi waves as Bokuto turns in the direction of his house, his essay in hand, the light beginning to fade the further away he gets. But it’s different now. 

Once, Akaashi was in a dark abyss with no hope of climbing his way out. He was stuck, until the light came and set him free, spreading his spirit to the boy who needed it. 

Akaashi doesn’t feel bound to the cage of obscurity any longer, even as he gets home and is met with an empty house at six am. He knows that he has the same light as Bokuto within him, and he’s not afraid to let it shine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lets just ignore how i forgot that Akaashi was wearing that backpack all night lmao. I'm considering writing a part four for this in Bokuto's pov of the whole day, so if y'all would like to see that let me know in the comments!! you guys are great and thanks for reading!!


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